


Only with the moon

by ddeiSmile



Series: In the night [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-06-08 14:37:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6859060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddeiSmile/pseuds/ddeiSmile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was different now, in so many levels, mostly because she cared so much for Chat Noir that it was almost a sinful and sweet pain exploding in her heart and through every vertebra in her body.</p><p>In which Adrien is so hurt he can't be nothing more than Chat Noir. And Marinette is kind of falling for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fuego en el horizonte

**Author's Note:**

> Never thought I'd be here again, but I guess Chat Noir and Marinette are too much of a temptation. The thing is that english is not my first language, you'll probably notes it while reading, so if you can tell me any mistakes, I'll appreciated with all my heart. I have so many doubts with english, so, really, forgive me.
> 
> Also, I want to point out that in this ff (don't know if in the series is like this, since I have read some fanfics that say is not like this) they can be on their suits as long as they don't use the power like cataclysm or lucky charm. Hope you like it and any doubts I'll try to answer them in the next chapter. Also, it was inspired by this amazing drawing done by meru90 (on tumblr), I'll ask for her permission to show the link here or you can go to her tumblr and be amazed by her beautiful drawings of Adrien and Marinette and all the other couples.
> 
> Enjoy.

Paris was just a blurred image of what it had been yesterday: the streets, the fire in the horizon, everything was now devastated, yet, it was also such a vivid landscape, so beautiful under the moonlight that it could take away his breath. Things were better, even though everything seemed shattered, he knew that Parisians were stronger than all this destruction. He could see it now from the top of his old school, people in the streets helping each other, fixing all these things the lucky charm couldn’t due to its proprietress weakness and the fact that it had spent every ounce of magic trying to save his life. Adrien could see everything from where he stood: the courage, the love, the friendship, a city that was rising from the ashes. It was safe now, that's why Ladybug was (probably) with her family, under the loving warmth of a home with people that would take care of her while he waited for some signal, anything—he just couldn’t be home, not right now.

In the end, he felt –he knew– that the final battle against Hawk Moth had taken even more from him than it had from Ladybug or Paris itself. It had taken his own father. The thought made him tremble and with the movement, all the wounds in his body ached with more strength than the pain in his chest. He needed help, but no one could lend it to him. When Ladybug had offered it, he had said no, he had to, because for the first time he had been scared of her finding out who he was. If she knew-- how could he ever face her again after she had seen that Hawk Moth was Adrien Agreste’s father?

Gabriel Agreste had hoped and Adrien couldn’t even blame or hate him for it. How? he once had also wished to bring his mother back at any costs. Still, he felt so ashamed, so hurt.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a faint light coming from the bakery that belonged to the Dupain-Cheng’s family. A thought crossed his mind; he needed this, he needed to be selfish. He realized he had come to his old school in hopes of the memories of his friends (of something that could occupy his mind...), when everything was right and being Chat Noir meant only the promise of freedom in exchange for helping people: all he ever wanted. Now he wanted more and for this time he was going to take it. Watching Marinette would bring him the memories he needed. The cold air, still dirty from the ashes of buildings destroyed, hit his face when he jumped from the school ceiling. He was reckless, like always, as if the years hadn’t taught him something better, but he just thought it was enough with taking his mind off of his wounds, but when he landed in the intended balcony, his legs couldn’t support themselves and once again he fell to his knees with a loud thud, followed by his whole torso. Not long after, the smell of vanilla came to his nose, senses sharpened by the transformation. He realized a ridiculous thought: he was hungry and the fact that he could actually think something else was enough courage to obligate himself and turn upwards to be received by the bright moon. Marinette was there, he could feel her, she was probably trying to recognize what had hit her roof and this was the best way he had to make it easier for the both of them.

Not long after her voice came from above. “Can you stand?,” she asked, caressing his hair. He suppressed a purr. It took him by surprise: the gesture, the question, and it must have shown all over his face, but she only said, “you’re too much of a fat cat…” and smiled.

It wasn’t the answer he was looking for, but since she didn’t ask what was he doing there, he thought it was only polite to do the same and not wonder why the hell wasn't she surprised. He nodded as all answer and with her help came down to her bedroom.

Adrien had been once there when they still saw each other due to school. Adrien, the one who was inside of him, the part that wanted to disappear, that Plagg was hiding beneath the mask. He still could remember the pink walls, cute details everywhere, very likely of a fourteen years old teenage girl. Now that both of them were on their twentieth, her room had changed a little: walls covered with sketches, designs that she now sold through the internet –he himself had bought a few things without letting her know (Adrien, not him)–, rising as a big internet fashion designer, and many other things that combined with it. She had changed too, he noted while she helped him sit on the floor, in the middle of her room: the hair coming from her pigtails was longer, she had larger hips, long legs, a delicious aroma to it—the body of a woman, he thought as she went on to search for the lights. When she turned to him, now bathed by the light bulb and not his night vision, he noticed all her wounds. She wasn’t much better than him. She took the first aid box from her desk, which presumably had used on herself not so long ago, and sat beside him. He then dared to ask.

“Are you alright?” She looked at him with something in her eyes that told him he had asked the wrong question.

“I think that must be my line,” he shrugged and stopped her hand when she tried to pass an alcohol wipe over his cheek. After a pause, she let go of a sigh. “We all had to do something. I tried to help but I’m a mess, so I ended up tripping.”

It didn’t look like she had just tripped, but he was not going to pry from her anything more, at least not in that moment. So, when she went on again with the alcohol wipe, he let her do in silence, wincing now and then.

“You have... more… right?,” she darted her eyes, a light blush appearing on her cheeks. He found that completely amusing, being in the situation they were on.

“More what?, you’ll have to be more detailed, purrincess,” she looked like she wanted to kick him. He only smiled at her.

“What I’m asking is- if you can take that suit off?”

“Now, well... We’re going kind of fast, aren’t we?,” she punched him in the ribs and the pain made him see white for a second. Immediately she regretted it, getting on her knees and over him to try to help him calm the pain. That only made him laugh and complain of the new soreness that came with the action.

“You’re so annoying!,” she almost screamed, resisting the urge of hugging him. He felt it anyway, the way she was avoiding even breathing in that second she hovered on his back. It made him turn to her in search of her eyes, straightening with a hand over his chest. Her blush came back as fast as his heart warmed with the feeling that maybe she truly cared. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay. I’m a knight at your service, my purrincess. There’s nothing that you do that could harm me,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

He took the bell at the top of his suit and drag it down until his broad chest was exposed. Marinette shifted and started to struggle with the first aid box, trying to cover her awkwardness. He would have paid attention to it, laugh a little bit about it because he still remembered this behavior with Adrien, her inability to speak and how clumsy she had been sometimes; but the pain that shot through all his bones was enough to make him concentrate in a way to undress himself without starting to cry in front of her. The noise that came out of him at the moment was all it took for Marinette to be drawn again to his body.

“Wait,” she spoke soft, arms reaching in front as she settled behind his back, making him stay still while she took the top of the suit off.

He breathed again when the pressure of the leather against his bruises disappeared completely, but for Marinette, the view was simply horrendous. He knew it was bad. When the battle had begun, he had taken a few attacks aimed for Ladybug, it was his best shot of doing something since Hawk Moth concentrated only on her, both male conscious that the only one capable of saving Paris was her. It had been his way of helping and winning time for her to end the nightmare. The game had played on and on, having him spinning and falling and hitting the ground until the truth was revealed. He was lost for a moment, but somehow the weight of knowing just gave him the idea that it didn’t matter if he was gone, it gave him the strength to give his life so that she could finish Hawk Moth.

Marinette’s hand pressed against his skin, bringing him back from the memory that had happened almost a few hours ago. He thought that once again she was saving him from himself and his own self-destructive behavior. Her hands felt small, soft and warm against his skin, making everything a little bit better. She patched him up with such delicacy that he almost forgot the pain, too caught up in the way she was caressing him like he was something precious, worth taking care of. In a fit of courage, he faced her, smiling when the blush returned to her cheeks. The excuse was a low cut in his stomach and more bruises in his chest. She decided it was best not looking at his big green eyes, so shiny and puckish.

“Chat got your tongue?,” he asked, raising an eyebrow. She snorted, averting her eyes.

“Chat can’t even stand on his own.”

“Meow-uch. Touche.”

She smiled again and he couldn’t find in himself a reason as to why he was liking it so much. The silence was over them again, a comfortable one that somehow made everything okay.

It was in that moment, without her finishing her doing even though they both knew it was done, that she dared to ask, “do you want to stay?” His eyes searched for hers with surprise actually, her expression not wavering once.

It wasn’t just the fact that he couldn’t move properly, or that the place that was waiting for him was too empty, too painful to return to. It was those blue eyes that covered him up like the ocean and made him feel secure, safe from himself, like he belonged there, with her. He needed this, he wanted to be selfish, he had the right because life was being too fucked up for him to deal with it right now.

“Yes.”

She nodded once, as if that was enough, and it really was. She turned off the light bulb, then went for the little lamp that he had seen before coming in and finally got herself under the covers with a sleeping mask between her fingers.

“I won't see,” she said, while she put the mask on, “you can rest assure.”

The silence filled all the corners of the bedroom while he waited as if all this was coming to an end very soon. But it never did, it was real. He then let go of his breath and, with eyes closed, transformed back to the person he didn’t want to be, but that he needed to in order to give Plagg a rest. The little kwami floated in front of his face without a word, not only to avoid making Marinette conscious of his presence but because he understood what Adrien was going through and it was not the time to complain.

“Go search downstair for a kitchen. I’ll repay her everything you eat, but don’t make noises,” he whispered.

Once alone, he took off his shoes and the shirt, becoming to a state kind of similar to how Chat Noir had been before. He felt insecure without Plagg, he wanted to be him again, but she was there, waiting for him and he somehow knew once he stayed beside her everything would be alright. Containing a breath he took a seat on the small bed, too small for him; so, as he rested on his side, he had to bend the knees until they were touching hers. Marinette smelled so good, so much that he couldn’t fight the urge to get closer, and so he did until their fingers touched.

“Good night, Kitty.”

He smiled slightly. “Good night, Purrincess.”


	2. Recuerdos en el horizonte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'll just keep on reading the chapters and finding things to change, to fix. But, I tried (really, I've read it three times) to fix anything I can.  
> Is it kind of short? Actually, all the chapters are like this. But, like this it's easier to read them and correct them.  
> Hope you like it!

When Master Fu met them as Ladybug and Chat Noir with the plan to end all of this, she made her parents go away to a place where they could be safe. Of course, when the news of the disaster aired on the TV, they hurried back, but the flights had been belated and there were too many people wanting to come back to be with their loved ones, so they had to wait for a least three days. She assured them she was okay, the bakery was okay, they didn't need such a rush. She missed them, but at least she now had the time to heal the bruises and her cranky bones so that they wouldn’t worry about her.

She had been so tired that she didn’t felt Chat Noir get out of the bed and out of her room in the morning. If it hadn’t been for Tikki, she might have gone on sleeping until noon. It was then, while she made breakfast, that the news came through the television: Adrien Agreste was missing. What could have happened?, did his father do something to him? When everything ended up, she was too tired and wounded, too shaken by the image of Chat Noir bleeding to death in her arms, to go looking for him to make sure he was safe.  
  
Coming to a stop, she thought to herself that too many years had gone since the last time Adrien caught her attention like this—seven years to be precise. He was her first love and for a long time it stayed like that, but after the graduation they drifted apart, Alya being the connection to Nino who was the only connection to Adrien. Despite Alya’s attempts, when she and Nino started to date formally, going out as a group of friends was less the option and just like that her opportunities to see Adrien went from little to nothing, and actually, her new responsibilities had influenced a lot in the fact that she grew up from that love: her design studies, her new work and her life as Ladybug, it all had taken her mind away from that little girl who couldn’t keep her eyes away from this sweet and handsome boy.

Tikki searched for her in the table and she just smiled away her worried eyes. “It’s okay, Tikki. Let’s hurry up and finish, we must go and find him.”

There was nothing else to be added.

 

 

  
Adrien let the water draw the lines in his back, tensed muscles going down with the feeling of warm water. He closed his eyes, the image of his father embedding a blade through his stomach while he did the same coming through his eyelids like a light struck that took his breath away. He crouched over himself, leaving his palms against the cold wall as the only support. And then… warmth. Marinette . Her lips, her fingers entwining with his, her breath ghosting underneath his own lips, her knees and round edges moving to rest against his body. He would have loved to see her expression under the sunlight, knowing she had gotten tangled with him all by herself.  
  
“Adrien,” called Plagg, “we should go, someone's here.”

He shut the shower and dried himself barely before calling for his transformation. He would come back later, grab some clothes and more camembert cheese for Plagg but, for now, there wasn’t enough time. He went out of the window and stayed there a little bit, listening carefully for any movements inside. The door opened, it was Natalie, of course, he could smell her perfume. (And actually, no one else would come to his bedroom). Her presence was a reminder of where was his father at that very moment, who had put him there and the reason behind it. Those three facts were enough to make him jump off to the next building, needing only his freedom as Chat Noir, far away from Adrien and all that was wrong in his life.

 

  
He started running and jumping roofs, searching for the best way he had to take off his mind: doing rounds, finding people who needed his help. Even without the akumas, Parisians needed more than ever Ladybug and Chat Noir’s support; even if his Lady wasn’t there, he could be of some use. A pain in his hip made him stop for a moment, reminding him that the reason behind Ladybug’s absence was because she was resting and that he should be doing the same thing.

“I might be getting older…” He groaned, eyes closed, hands on his sides, taking his time to regain the breath.

“That, or you’re just getting fat,” the voice didn’t startle him, he knew she was coming. Yes, he was older and also better at his doings.

He smiled at her, that little stain of love still present in his chest, but now so far away. He wasn’t a kid anymore, he had learned that she didn’t reciprocate his feelings, that she didn’t even want to know who he was and so he learned to go ahead and bury everything away. With time, the fact that they both matured did so much good to their partnership that in the end, he was glad for the decision he had made.

“I’m sorry, my lady, you must be referring to my amazing muscles,” he flexed his right arm, making Ladybug –Marinette– feel something in the dip of her stomach. Ridiculous, really, since this was not the first time he did something so silly. And yet.

“I can’t see none, but if I do, I’ll be sure to call,” he made a face. “Chat, we need to talk.”

His lungs filled up with air, a slow gasp. The air was cleaner this time, but he wasn’t, as he was not ready for this talk.

“Do we?, ‘cause I’m kind of in a hurry and-”

“Yes, we do,” she interrupted, facing him with a frown. “What you did back there was reckless, it was irresponsible,” her tone got up until her gaze fell to the ground “it was terrifying…”

He took both of her shoulders and made sure that she was facing him again. “I’m okay. We’re partners, I knew you would save me, but above all, we needed all this to end and even if I would have fallen pursuing that wish, it would have still been worth it.”

She wanted to tell him so many things, but she couldn’t, ‘cause in the end, he was right, so much that it hurt. When did he become like this?, so centered in what he wanted, so capable.

“Don’t repeat it. We saw that the miraculous not always works at its best. Don’t risk it.”

“It won’t be necessary,” he let her go, “it is all over now, Bugaboo.”

Yes. Almost.

“Adrien Agreste… I was about to call you. He is missing, he is-”

“Hawk Moth’s son, yes,” he said, straightening. “I know where he is. He just needs time, my lady”

She opened her mouth. “What?, how?, when?, how did you meet?,” she felt her old self again somehow combined with the preoccupation that struck her whenever someone was in danger.  
  
“I saw him. I helped him get away.”

Her lips opened, ‘was he okay?’ she wanted to ask, but for obvious reasons, it was a question that she didn’t want to voice out in front of him. She knew that by the look in Chat’s eyes, something deeper was happening between Adrien and him. In another time she would have done something, said something, carried away by a love with no future, but now things had changed. More than ever her trust in him and the importance that she should have given him a long time ago, made her restrain from Adrien and Chat Noirs’s business.

“Okay,” she said after a while with a breath of relief. “Then I think I still need some rest. You should go too, Chat. Please, rest…”

“I will, my lady.” Two fingers went to his forehead as a goodbye, a grin on his lips that didn’t catch his eyes.

Chat Noir saw the red suit disappear in the blue sky, her words still fresh in his mind. She was right, he needed to rest and he was close to Marinette’s house, but he still had this urge to help people. He felt –he knew– that this was his fault. Crouching, his gaze fell on the horizon from the borderline of the roof where he stood, and there he started searching for that signal, that one thing that would take him to the right place.

While she flew away, she hoped and really hoped that he would come back to her as Marinette. She wasn’t sure for the reason why it had happened before, they actually had met only a few times (twice when she was fourteen and just once a couple of years later), but at the end, it didn’t matter to her. The red light washed over her body, leaving Marinette in the middle of her room. She actually had been asking to the skies with such a strong need to see him, to know that he was okay, that it wasn’t really a surprise it had happened. That’s why she asked him to stay: she needed him and maybe, he needed her just as much. So, she waited for him.

Somehow she ended up doing it, her mind filled with images of him. The sun was now hiding and her mind still seemed so into the sketch (one had turned to two, and two to three) that she couldn’t stop drawing those little details she had seen him so many times.

“They are beautiful, Marinette,” said Tikki, hovering above the two drawings ready.

“Thank you, Tikki,” she smiled, barely closing her eyes before returning to the curve of his neck over the sheet.

A few seconds later, she suddenly felt her kwami fly away, but her mind couldn't comprehend or really pay attention to the act. It wasn't until she felt a breath ghosting on her cheek that she realized someone was there. Jumping from the chair on her desk, she turned, taking some scissors as a method of self-defense. He looked at her with an entertained expression. It made her blush and stupidly hide the scissors behind her back.

“You just scared the hell out of me.”

He laughed lightly and the sound felt recomforting. “I’m sorry, Purrincess, but fear not, your cat in shining armor –or leather, even better for the view– is here,” theatrically he pressed a hand to his chest while the right knee touched the floor. But the act didn’t take long, or at least he didn’t give her the time to answer before he was up and so close to her that a tremble spiked her spine. “And I must say these are really good, Purrincess. Of course, the model is quite nice himself, don’t you think?”

She felt the urge to stab him with the scissors. “Ugh, shut up,”

Pushing him away with her body, she turned to the desk, trying to get the other drawings away. He was just making the fact that she spent the whole day sketching him even worst. But then he was there, right there on her back, and that need of love that had carried him now and before –he didn’t have a name for it yet, but perhaps caring was close enough– jumped in his chest with a force that was too much. If she wanted him out, she would need only one word, but right now he had nothing to lose, so he just grabbed her thin waist and held her there, close to his chest and beating heart.

Marinette’s breath got caught in her throat. She didn’t expect this—his presence?, yes; his stupid grins and puns?, yes; but this heath, the pressure of his arms engulfing her shoulders and his nose sniffing his way through her hair and her neck…, well it was too much.

“Chat Noir?,” she asked, voice trembling with something that wasn’t fear.

“Just… a little more.”

Yes, that was it, a little more. He wanted a little more from her, from this that she was giving him even if she didn’t realize it. He wasn’t sure of anything that could go wrong or right, this was just him: Chat Noir wanting and taking what he wanted, what he needed. She stood still, so perfectly composed even if her mind was blowing.

A few minutes passed by, he still pressed with such a strong grip on her and then suddenly he just let go. It was so out of nowhere that she almost breathed out a complaint. The time was vicious with them (life was being a mess) and just somehow she felt too this urge to grab him, comfort the distress she could see and feel within him.

“Do you want to eat?,” her tone sounded more like a beg and maybe she was: because the moon wasn’t up just yet and maybe it was only then that he could stay with her, so she needed an excuse to keep him. Just a little more.

“Actually that would be pawsitively purrfect.”

Through the corner of her eye, she saw Tikki glancing a questioning look to her. She couldn’t answer, she didn’t know the reasons –hers or his– so she just grabbed the first aid box and stomped with him out of her room.

“Let’s go, I have to treat again your wounds before they make you say more stupid puns like those.”

“Meow-ouch. I think you will have to cure those you have made in my heart too, Purrincess.”


	3. Tú eres el horizonte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god. i'm so sorry I've done this. It's terrible, but I still love Chat Noir/Adrien so much that I will post it even if it's just...I don't know.

He had wanted croissants, saying something about how much he loved them. It wasn’t needed an offering, he had already spotted some in her refrigerator and a look to his eyes was enough to convince her to take those made by his father a few days ago. While she moved around the kitchen, they had a small talk, ridiculous talk actually: about the weather, her studies, job, linkings and how good her food tasted; or what he enjoyed about being a hero, how he was such a flirt and how he actually was not and what sweets did he love the most. After eating, the talk continued while she undressed him, treating every bruise and cut that fortunately was looking better by now.

He had actually been like this since always, telling puns and making jokes that only warmed her heart. The thing is that the mood was good, perhaps because they were friends somehow. As Marinette and Adrien once, and as Ladybug and Chat Noir still. He didn’t know about the last part, of course, as she didn’t either about the first, but they simply didn’t need a reason to know that this was okay: the touches of his claws, that look in his eyes like he wanted to take her away or how she treated him with such earnest, so many feelings, all of them still fresh with the fear of losing him, were destiny things. Tikki could see it, spying on them from the stairs, she could feel that magnetism.

She had seen the night before it was Adrien (and had given Plagg some food too) and the fact that he always came back to Marinette and she to him was just like Master Fu had said once. It had been while Marinette was in the bathroom and Chat Noir on the roof waiting for her –she could still remember the moment, the days of planning the trap to Hawk Moth were starting and their late night meetings as Ladybug and Chat Noir in the middle of an old Chinese man tea room becoming a regular thing–, he just suddenly said: “they’re really meant for each other.” At that moment she had thought it was strange, but never doubted the wise words of her master. The truth now transformed in front of her eyes and something sparkled inside of her, a motherly happiness because maybe this was Marinette’s chance.

When they finished cleaning, a plate of cookies hidden at the end of the table, they walked in silence to her room, their bodies moving in unison, pieces falling into place like this was some kind of ritual. The moon was up again, her room lighted over by it and the little lamp by her bed. Once they closed the door, his smell took over all the little space and suddenly, so self-conscious as she was, she realized that he had grown a lot. Of course, she felt it last night when he couldn’t fit in her bed completely or earlier when he hugged her, covering every inch of her skin; but now, standing one in front of the other, there was just something that clicked making her actually notes that detail. Sometimes it was hard to wrap her mind around it, but she knew that underneath that mask there was a person, someone who had her age when they started this whole adventure, someone who had been with her through all these years until both of them became adults. (Of some sort, in her case).

“Enjoying the view?,” he said, having that idiotic smirk plastered on his face.

She frowned, a blush exploding all around her face and ears. “I can’t stand you, really.” Treading the ground with fierceness, Marinette walked over to the bathroom.

He didn’t respond. While she changed into her pajamas, he searched for the sketches of himself. Again, that feeling tingled, letting him know he was in the right place: she cared, and that was more than enough. The door slammed, attracting his attention and this time was her naked legs the ones that took his breath away.

“Could you stop watching those?!,” she groaned, throwing away her clothes.

“I’m sorry, it’s just such a catsome view,” Chat wasn’t so interested in clarifying if he meant her or the drawings.

She could’ve killed him. She should’ve.

Irritated, but so flustered too, she got herself inside the bed, turning off the lamp and putting the sleeping mask as fast as possible, all movements showing off her frustration—for him, for her, and this ridiculous way of acting and feeling.

In a moment he let go of his transformation. He was still naked ‘cause between helping and searching for a way of sneaking some cheese for Plagg, he didn’t have time before to grab some clothes. The little kwami smiled devilishly and Adrien thought to himself that maybe all that cat attitude really came from this little shit, grinning in front of him. (He liked to lie to himself from time to time). He whispered to Plagg like the night before, giving him instructions to go look for the bag he had left on the balcony, filled with camembert cheese. That was all it took him to be once again alone with Marinette.

He didn’t plan to be like this, as in completely naked. He wasn’t ashamed of it though. He had gone through all that awkwardness a long time ago. But it was her and the fact that it could be disrespectful what made him feel so scared and yet, there he was, going against all the rules. He got in, grabbed her blanket and cover himself up with it.

Her heart was beating so fast that she couldn’t react on time when a hand pressed against her stomach. “Chat-,” she tried to say, but he was faster.

“It’s okay, I won’t do anything. Trust me.”

And unfortunately she did trust in him, so she ended up with her body trapped against his, so close that she didn’t need much to realize he was naked and that his heart felt as alive as hers. Once again his nose was there, rubbing gently against the back of her neck until he finally rested his chin up on her head. Feeling Marinette’s hips against his, the soft movement of her breathing underneath his arm and her sweet aroma filling everything in him, intoxicating his senses, became that thing he had been needing with such desperation. The mildness and peace drift him away to sleep for the first time since everything had happened.

 

  
She had fallen asleep at some point too, even though it had seemed almost impossible, but his purrs had been enough to take her to slumber.

She woke up thinking that he wouldn’t be there the next morning. And he had actually tried, but he hadn’t been able to move, not when he had her like this, his lips were still burning with desire, having tasted the glory too soon, too short, after removing her sleeping mask –knowing she was a heavy dreamer– and kissing her cheek as a goodbye, too caught up by her beauty. He had stayed like that, roaming his fingers so slowly over her forearms, restraining his desire of touching her even more. But his body wasn’t that comprehensive and now that all her senses were coming back she could feel it, there where the blood pressed with such a painful hardness. Surprised by his presence, she wiggled nervously, making him grunt with pain and pleasure.

“I’m sorry, Purrincess,” he said with guilt and panic within his voice, he had hoped she would sleep more. He embraced her even more to stop any movement, “I’ll leave right now.”

She parted her lips, but nothing came out. He saw the way she was blinking, probably trying to comprehend. There was no explanation, just his endeavor to try to suppress the pain that the sentence caused in him: the last thing he wanted was to leave. He let her go and started to get up, but before any further movement, her hand reached for his, gripping him harder than she ever had. She was scared, frozen in the spot.

Yes, she wasn't a kid anymore, neither was this her first time, but the fact that it was him it made everything more difficult, it made her act like a complete idiot.

He was there in the next moment, taking this opportunity, scaring away all her doubts. “I won’t be able to stop,” Chat grunted, deepening the mattress with one knee, both hands falling to each side of her head.

This time she spoke, “I don’t want you to,” and she was brave enough to voice that out—for him, for her.

He leaned closer to her lips, just to torture them (to give her the time to retract her words) while he pressed between her legs. She opened for him and slowly caressed with her ankles the sides of his thighs until she could hug his hips, pressing his whole body against hers. She had never met this kind of pleasure. Of need. The first time she was too scared, too conflicted and in pain to feel it, even if Nathanaël had done everything in his hands to keep her comfortable. It was different now, on so many levels, mostly because she cared so much for Chat Noir that it was almost a sinful and sweet pain exploding in her heart and through every vertebra in her body.

Adrien kissed her lips, bringing her back to reality, touching every part of her body with his soft palms, with his sweet voice that whispered stupid things now and then that made her laugh and forget, and then moan while he kissed her breasts, her neck. She started moving her hips and was greeted with his hands that traveled to her buttocks and grounding with his knees on the mattress he helped her, strong grip snapping her core against his erection. This was too much, she thought with his tongue over her right nipple.

He wanted to swallow her up, cover every part of her precious body with his lips and so he tried, kissing her ribs, the center of her breasts, down to her navel, her hips, the fingers that flinched by his shoulder. When he got her completely naked, he continued over her slit, first with kisses and when the softness was too much, he did it with his tongue, savoring every part of her. He opened her legs, enjoying the way she melted in his hands, so pliant and wet, so ready for him and perfect.

While he kissed her thighs, her knees, two fingers entered to explore her and the way they got trapped in her muscles only made things worst. She was so beautiful, and he was so helplessly conscious of it, of the way her lips parted and her spine arched. This was probably the only precious thing Adrien would ever have in this whole world. For the first time, he was making love to Marinette, both of them, feeling her with every part, broken or not.

The sun was coming out, filling the room and every shadow that had cast over her started to disappear with all the colors of the sky, making the view even more beautiful. Their lips met, and she could feel her own taste in his mouth. She ran her hands over his chest, feeling his muscles, his arms, his hips, and then she felt his shaft, so hard and hot that almost took all her breath away. She heard him hiss, an invitation that made her ran her fingers until she felt his testicles and once again to the tip. He wasn’t able to take it anymore, so he then took her right leg, kissing the inner thigh before resting against her once again, hooking her knee over his shoulder. She felt his pulse, but also the question he didn’t dare to pronounce, so she was the one who guided him inside of her, testing with his glans her lips, the space in them, her own entrance.

“Chat…” she whimpered, “do it, please.”

That was all he needed. The next second it was him who called her name while pushing slowly, opening her, licking her inside walls before withdrawing and then entering her once again. Adrien felt her tremble too when their hips met, his cock so deep in her insides that he was able to feel her take his heat, his pain, his shattered pieces. He rested his forehead against her shoulder once they started a rhythm, once again taking her by the hips, and it felt like every movement was a way of loving her. Slowly, hard, deep, fast. He couldn’t even breathe, hissing and groaning while she called his name relentlessly.

His hands followed everything they could: her feets, her legs, hips and breast, the neck now covered in red spots, the lips so red and swollen and her hair, just so to repeat the path from the top to the last. It was never enough, even if he pushed hard against her, burying himself to the grim, or if he bends her, if she was face down, meeting the pillow while he viciously kissed and bitten her back, her buttocks... It was never enough.

She had one, two, three orgasms, taking him so close to the end that by the second time he had to open her legs and swallow her contractions with his tongue. On the third he let everything explode with her, feeling like his life depended only by the way she was scratching him, kissing him, taking his last drop of pleasure.

And then, it was just peace. Happiness.


	4. Chapter 4

He woke up from his nap with her sweet smell filling his nostrils. Her hands were over his hair, making him purr slowly with every caress she gave to him. Marinette had let him rest in her embrace while the sun went down, both of them lying in her balcony on a sun chair, enjoying the breeze of the afternoon in Paris and the calm that each other’s company brought to their lives. They had fallen into this slumber so easily, being only yesterday in the morning when he was trying to control his animalistic urges, eating her alive because she was –she is– the most delightful thing in this wicked world. In the twilight of the day, he realized that it was almost a physical pain to be apart from her, a tiresome task.

Her parents would be back the next day, which meant they wouldn’t have as much time as they did right now, so he had wanted to stay indoors until the afternoon of the day before, kissing her belly over her clothes like he was doing at the moment. But the weight of his conscience had prevented him from this privilege, and he had to left her alone to go on rounds as Paris’s superhero. Now he was at home ( home being her ), with Marinette petting and feeding him. This was the great life of a cat and he was going to enjoy it for as long as he could.

“How can you be such a slacker,” the smile sounded in her voice.

“This is the result of many cat-years of mastering the purrfect manners of a chat .”

He was again in his suit. The topic of who he was behind the mask hadn’t even crossed her mind, but he was thinking and thinking about how ‘this thing’ was happening with her and how he wanted it all, which meant not having to go away to give Plagg a rest or having her under his embrace with a sleeping mask. But before he could be Adrien in front of her, he needed to fix his life, he needed to be worthy of something.

“I swear I could just throw you through the window.”

He smiled happily, raising his face from her lap. “All cats fall on their feets.”

“Not the fattier ones.”

“Well, since we’re talking about being fat…” he said, going up until his lips touched the skin of a breast that could be seen from her neckline, “I’m feeline kinda hungry.”

Marinette laughed so hard that she had to cover her mouth, trying with the other hand to keep him away. “You won’t have any food, bad Kitty,” the sound of her voice filled with happiness made him enjoy even more the kisses he was trying to plant all over her chest. “Can’t believe you just said that horrible pun... Chat!,” she screamed, flexing her legs so that they could prevent him from his doings, “stop that!”

“But I want my milk,” he purred, pressing his palms on her hips.

“Oh, my God… you won’t have any milk.”

His smirk was back up, and she just knew she had done something wrong. Letting his knees touch the ground (not being so far away from it due to the position and how small the sun chair was), he grabbed her thighs, opening her ever so slowly. “It’s okay, Purrincess, I can be hungry for other things too.”

 

  
Before parting he took away the sleeping mask, as he always did, and stayed there, admiring her for a little bit more. He could still feel her against his chest, naked, her breathing a soothing sound that claimed all his attention, that gave him strength. Adrien recognised that the last few days had gone similarly: him watching her steps, her lips, wanting to kiss her eyes, her fingertips, feeling every part of her body, breathing her, needing more than this. He was becoming addicted—all the more reasons to make him decide to act now. With a kiss on her forehead, he said goodbye.

It was rather early, the streets quiet, the sun barely showing up. There was no rush, but he knew her parents would be over today and she was going to need her time with them. And he too needed to get his mind on the things that were coming.

Once he got to his house –not far away of Marinette’s– he made sure Plagg ate all the cheese he wanted. He already owned him so much, and also to keep his mouth shut, it wasn’t such a good thing hearing him sputter about his little play between Marinette’s legs on her balcony while he organized everything needed in his father’s office. By noon he prepared something to eat for himself, took a shower and then a nap. These little normal things, done as Adrien, made him feel surer of his decision than before. It wasn’t only for Marinette, though she was the main reason; it was also for him and his need to get away from everything his father had done to him.

When the time came, he turned his phone on and dialed Natalie’s number and after a strangled ‘Adrien!’ , he voiced out his instructions. Not long after the car was parked in front of the main door, with Natalie waiting for him, fighting the relief and surprise off of her expression. He smiled slightly at her, thankful for her silence and the way she had managed everything in his absence. Now more than ever he was going to need her and with a nod of her head, she told him somehow that he had her whole support.

The road to the hospital he spends it watching the sky, knowing that by this hour he would have been landing on Marinette’s ceiling, grasping his claws around her waist. The image made his need for her grow, but also calmed his heart and mind.

They came to a stop, already a crowd of paparazzi in front of the hospital. “I had to call the lawyers,” said Natalie, knowing that probably that would make him doubt of her. “They had to know you were alive. The company is yours while your father is in the hospital, Adrien. They must’ve…”

“I get it,” he interrupted. He really did, it had been contemplated on his plan. “Don’t worry. We’ll discuss everything tomorrow. And don’t come back for me, Natalie, I’ll leave by myself.”

She wanted to argue, but he didn’t give her the time. Opening the door, he went out and ignored the flashes that captured Adrien Agreste’s return. But, more than that, he felt that this was actually being born all over again: free and strong, and that feeling seated in the pit of his stomach, occupying his mind while the elevator took him to the floor where his father was. At the end of the hall, had said the nurse, and so he went straight to it, feeling Plagg snuggle closer to him as a way of letting him know he was there, supporting him. The gesture made him smile.

A knock on the door and then he was devoured by darkness. All the shadows that his father had cast over him for so many years won on the first blink of his eyes –second– battle. He was blinded for a second until his eyes got used to the absence of light.

“Adrien…” Called his father, surprise in his voice.

“I’m here, father,” he responded, walking over the curtains to let the light of the moon become his ally. The silence filled the room, both males gazing into each other's eyes.

“Are you-”

“You knew,” he interrupted him. “You actually knew it was me from a long time. And I just can’t blame you for everything you did, not entirely at least, but it just makes me wonder… how little did you care about me?”

“I don’t know what are you talking about.”

“Plagg, claws out.” The green light filled the room, leaving him as Chat Noir in front of his father. He was now the man that had stabbed him, that almost killed him. “You knew it from that time you saw my ring, and yet you kept doing all these things…”

Gabriel turned his face to the moon, breathing deeply.

“Yes, I knew. I never meant to hurt you, Adrien.”

“But you did.”

“Yes, I did,” his father’s face turned to him once again “I wasn’t ready to be a father. Not that I didn’t want to be, but I needed your mother, Adrien. I knew, from the moment I saw you that you were the most precious thing in this world. I wanted what was best for you, but I just didn’t know how to give it to you, how to do things. I’ve always been lost. I needed her… I wonder just how much you don’t care about her.”

Adrien felt his breath catch on his throat. “I missed her every day of my life, father. I still do. But she is gone, and in your search for her, you left me too.”

Adrien wondered who was right in that discussion, was there an answer? He felt like he was being stabbed all over again. He closed his eyes, dropping his head back to let go of the pressure in his neck, in every vein and blood and bone from his body that hurt. Then he returned the look to his father.

“I’m taking the company. We both know that this is the best.” His eyes landed on his father's legs and he felt again the pain flooding through his veins. He was no better from him, was he? That’ why he couldn’t blame him for anything and felt like at some point he was right. “I’ll take over everything, and I’ll make sure you have no needs. That’s all I wanted to say.”

“Adrien…”

“Goodnight, father.”

While he jumped through the window, he thought that those words felt like the last ones, and they probably were. They both had wounded each other so deeply on the inside and outside, even now everything hurt, how could they ever again talk to each other with certain normality, as father and son?

The lights on the bakery were off by the time he landed on the roof, probably because of Marinette’s parents, too tired to be up at this hour of the night. He still knew his way in, he needed it, and when his boots touched the floor of her room he saw her sit down on the mattress with a big smile lighting up her face. She was like an angel, but he was so tired, so sad. His last fight had lasted almost twenty years and its end was more painful than anything else. He fell to his knees and in the blink of an eye, Marinette was there, holding him in place.

“Chat, what happened?, are you hurt?” She whispered with desperation, touching his body in search for any wound.

He sought out for her eyes, letting her embrace his shoulders. The pressure in his throat started to let go and he just couldn’t hold them in. While his cries were muffled against her neck, a green light covered his body, letting her see every broken piece in hopes that she would fix them, one by one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like the fact that they are in their twenties and the idea of an experienced Adrien. I actually thought (after feeling like I could die from embarrassment because I had never written smut in english, or any story actually...) of writing kind of how he went through that, 'cause I feel like even sex must have been painful for him. Don't know if it makes sense to you, but if I get the chance, I think I'll definitely do it.  
> ... And what is this, why does he makes me want to write angst?  
> It was hard to only center the story in him, and yet it ended up like that. I did some Marinette's point of view, but it was all about his grief.  
> Also, since the begining I wanted to leave an open ending. This are all firsts for me, really: I had never written a fanfic (and smut) in english, I had never posted here, had never written in this fandom and I had never done an open ending. I know this is not so good, not only because I struggle with english, but because I tend to go to the important stuff right away, I can't build a good ending, I'm too impatient. Yet, here it is, my first baby, and I'm really hoping I can write more.  
> Thanks for all the kudos and bookmarks, they really meant a lot.


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